It's been a long, long several months (ahem, years) of pressure, pain, and sometimes bleeding– but it's all about to end tomorrow. In less than 24 hours I'm having some delightful destructive and reconstructive surgery on my jaw and teef.
I've put off said procedure for the above mentioned years because I for one am absolutelyfuckingridiculously terrified of dentists. In fact just looking up dentists online to make my consultation made me so sick I almost passed out at work. (FYI: Not a good look for a bartender wearing bunny ears on Easter Sunday...) I also had to have a friend accompany me to my consultation appointment to make sure I didn't walk out after signing in. I actually had handled myself a lot better than even I had expected. My escort held my hand in the waiting room and alternated assurances and spry joking antagonisms.
...And then I got into the actual room.
...And then I heard a drill in the next room over.
...And then I lost my shit.
...And then my doctor realized that I was a problem patient who needed lots and lots of medication to mellow my ass out. (Goooood doctor!) For the month in between my initial phone call and the impending early morning surgery tomorrow I've amassed a pretty collection of pain & anxiety killers on my dresser (and in my liver.)
But this is besides the point. The point is I'm going to be drinking scotch and codiene smoothies for the next several weeks, bleeding from the mouth, and looking like a hot air balloon caricature of myself while friends take turns wincing and laughing at my disfiguring misfortune. BUT until midnight tonight I'm like a man on death-row. I'm eating apples off the core, corn off the cob, handfuls of crunchy and chewy things, and if I see some hotties on the way to work, totally making out. I have a few hours before I'm living la vita pills & popsicles and I intend to take total advantage..and I urge you to as well.
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